Stellatite
by The Lone Clapper
Summary: I hear the voice of the owner now. "Alyss?" "Yes, Keren?" I ask. I feel my voice speaking and my mouth moving, but it seems as if I have no control over what I say. The words merely flow from my mouth like one's breath on a cold winter day. "Will is here."
1. Part I

**This actually started out as a theme for my 100 Themes Challenge, then I made it a Oneshot, and now it has become a Three-shot. :) Which just goes to show how I always write too much . . .**

**Please read and review! This is supposed to be deep and angst-y and stuff, so if there's anything I could improve on, please tell me!**

**Disclaimer: I, obviously, don't own Ranger's Apprentice. I also didn't make the cover photo; I found it on the internet.**

**Word count: 1,158 words. Not including this A/N.**

* * *

It is beautiful, the gem. Such a wondrous shade of blue. It is the sky, the sea, everything wonderful and astonishing in the world condensed into a single orb. A beautiful, beautiful, gem. I am reminded of diving under the ocean, the water distorting everything I see from outside. I see clearly only the water itself; the way it captures the light and moves around me. The deeper I swim into its depths, into the darker hues of blue, the mysterious and deep yet so tangible and simple movement of light and matter, the less I care about the rest of the world.

Everything just seems so insignificant and frivolous compared to the stone. Why would anyone care about such things? The world is just people, happenings, stories. But this . . . this is so much _more _than that.

The rest of my thoughts seem clouded, for I am so focused on the depths of the stone. I vaguely remember not wanting to look at it, but it seems more like a dream—a nightmare—than a memory. I cannot imagine doing anything that was not for the stone and its owner. He—Keren, his name was—is the one who showed it to me, though I'd thought I didn't want to.

He knows what is best for me. I must do what he wants—what the stone wants.

No matter what.

I don't care about anything else.

I can vaguely hear someone yelling; maybe my name, but the voice is distant, and even if I could hear it clearly, I wouldn't care. Nothing can be more important than the stone.

I continue to study the complex puzzle of simple elegance.

It is magic; it has to be. How could anything that brings one such awe be merely a stone? How could something that defies all of reality, that defies its own _being_ be only a gem? No, this has to be something more.

I hear the voice of the owner now. "Alyss?"

"Yes, Keren?" I ask. I feel my voice speaking and my mouth moving, but it seems as if I have no control over what I say. The words merely flow from my mouth like one's breath on a cold winter day.

"Will is here," the owner says. I think for a moment. _Will… the name rings a bell. _I look deeper into the intricate veins of blue, studying them as they weave their way through a river, moving with the current. _No, no wait…_

"Will who?"

I focus on the gemstone again. I vaguely hear voices arguing, but I don't care. There's the gem, the mystical, hypnotizing blue gem. Right before my eyes is the most beautiful, important thing in the world.

I could stare at the stone my entire life and it wouldn't feel the slightest bit wasted. Anything for the stone must be good, must be just. How could the sea, vast in its beauty and complexity, do anything wrong?

It seems everlasting. When I look into its depths, I feel as if I could live forever. Even if I would die, nothing else would matter. I would still have the stone with me, inside of me.

For it has taken me over. It is like standing under a sparkling blue waterfall after never having been cleansed. The gem brings me such fulfillment, I do not or ever will need anything else.

I don't care about anything else.

I hear my name again. "Alyss?" It is the one who possesses the gem.

"Yes Keren?" I hear myself say from afar.

"Kill the Ranger."

I pry my eyes away from the stone and look at the owner. _He possesses the stone. He is the one who introduced me to this magnificent new world. I must do as he says_.

"Of course." I search the mesmerizing sea of blue once again, though I am not quite certain of what it is I am searching for.

The mystical waters hide so much from my gaze, yet I can see through its every being. It would confuse most people, but now it seems simple.

The stone exists, and it is important. It is the most important. Nothing can compare to how powerful the meaning is that it holds.

Everything I have ever known, everything that could be known, is a hindrance to the bigger picture—the magnificent power of the stone.

I don't care about anything else.

I tear my eyes away from it and look at my new enemy—the Ranger, though I can see it from the corner of my eye. Anyone who dare disturb the peaceful confusion of the stone deserves to die.

I swing my sword around, figuring that the sooner I kill the Ranger, the sooner I can get back to the most important thing—the stone. It is the mere thought of it that powers me to do what I must.

I step closer towards the Ranger and bring the sword up to kill him.

He draws his bow and points an arrow at my heart. I look down, frowning slightly.

This may be harder than I thought.

"That's far enough, Alyss," the Ranger says shakily.

He means to kill me. Doesn't he?

I glance at Keren, the one who possesses the stone. What is more important: my life, or the stone?

The stone must be more important. It is the most important. The question is: how strongly do I believe it?

"He's bluffing," Keren says calmly. "He would never hurt you. Go ahead and kill him."

I look back at the Ranger. Why shouldn't he kill me? I'm trying to kill him. There is no reason for someone about to die to refuse to hurt his murderer . . . except maybe . . .

No, no, that can't be right. How can anyone love something that isn't the stone? Everything else is worthless. The stone's power brings one so much awe, they cannot help but serve it. For there is nothing more in life.

I don't care about anything else . . .

"Alyss . . . please," the Ranger says. The look in his eyes . . . No. The stone, the stone is more important than some silly Ranger. How can I be thinking this?

"Go on." Keren interrupted her thoughts. "I told you he wouldn't harm you."

"Yes," I say. "So you did." I clear my head of any thoughts except that of the stone. That's the most important thing; nothing else matters.

Nothing.

Not this Ranger.

Not even me.

I advance, expecting to die. Just then, the Ranger moves his bow so that the arrow faces Keren, my master, rather than me.

"If she takes one more step, you're a dead man. Tell her."

So he won't kill me. What if . . . No.

I push the thought from my head.

Those things don't matter anyway. All that matters is the power of the stone.

I don't care about anything else.

* * *

**Please review! :)**


	2. Part II

**I know it's really short, but it ends where it ends. Just read it slowly. I should update in a week or so.**

* * *

"Just wait a moment there, Alyss." Keren's eyes focus on the arrow now pointing at his own chest.

I look at him. What must I do now? Is the stone more important than him as well?

"We seem to have an impasse," the Ranger says. A sly grin is spreading across his handsome face.

He is a smart one.

I like that.

No, I don't. I must remember that. I do not like anything about this Ranger, for he means to kill Keren, to kill the stone.

To kill the power.

"Now snap her out of this, and you can go," he commands Keren.

I assume he is talking about me. Snap me out of what?

"Go? Go where?" Keren says. I begin to notice how heavy the sword, still raised above my head, is. It came all of sudden; I felt nothing, and then I felt pain. A lot of pain.

Strangely, the pain the sword brings me seems minuscule compared to that of my own heart, slowly being torn.

"Anywhere you choose," The Ranger says with a shrug, the grin still plastered on his face. "I'm giving you a chance."

"And you're also planning to come after me."

"Keren, I'm getting a little tired here," I say. My head begins to throb as much as the muscles in my arms. I know this Ranger. Don't I? He hasn't killed me, yet I would have killed him.

_But will I kill him?_

Why hasn't he killed me?

He is nothing, as am I. The only thing that matters is the power of the stone. Anything that does not serve its wondrous, beautiful power does not matter.

It's as if they aren't even there.

"It won't be long now, Alyss," the owner smiles at me and turns back to the Ranger. He continues to speak, but I figure it can't be very important. Nothing is important.

Besides the stone.

I don't care about anything else . . .

How could I care about anything else?

I hear the owner speak my name again.

"Yes, Keren?"

"You know you must do anything I say, don't you?" I think about this for a moment. He is the owner of the stone, the most wonderful thing in the world.

The power of the stone makes the roar of the ocean a trickle of water. It makes the strongest, smartest, and bravest man on Earth numb. He cannot feel a thing, for the power of the stone overcomes him; and anything he once cared about diminishes, fades away to nothing. He must serve the stone as long as he lives.

Just look what it has done to me.

I don't care about anything else.

"Well, of course I know that Keren," my words say, as I feel myself turn to face him.

"Good. Then listen to me carefully. If the Ranger harms me in any way, kill him."

I feel myself nod and look back at the Ranger. His arrow is still aimed at the owner's heart. I suppose if he releases the string, I'll have to . . .

I feel something. Deep inside me, it's stirring, quivering.

How can I feel anything?

What is wrong with me?

_I am sitting at a round table, with my chin resting on my hand. I am happy, truly happy._

No, no, I do not care, the stone is more important than any . . .

_I look into his eyes, no longer afraid. Why should I be? He is here._

_Will is here._

_Will . . ._

Will . . .

Will.

I glance over at the Ranger . . . the Ranger . . .

"_We're all proud of you Will."_

Will? I do not know a Will.

I know only the stone. I care only of the stone.

"_And I think I'm the proudest of all." I leaned forward, a faint smile on my lips, the lips that soon touch his._

_Will._

I study the Ranger once again, taking in every small detail-the cloak, the face, the brave look in his brown eyes.

This time, I say my own words.

"What was your name again?"


	3. Part III

The owner's head jerks over to face mine. "His name doesn't matter!" he screams at me, the urgency in his voice clear. "Do as I tell you!"

I do not know a Will. I know only the stone. I care only of the stone. The stone is all that matters. The stone is all that matters.

The stone is all that matters.

Right? I've always been . . .

Yes. It must be true. It must. How can it not? The stone is the most important thing in the world.

Isn't it?

I don't care about anything else.

"Yes. Of course. Sorry . . ." I trail off, my words seeming to be far away, impossible to reach.

But I can hear my thoughts very clearly, though what they are, I am not certain.

I know the Ranger. And yet I don't. I care for him. I care for him a lot.

All I care for is the stone, the beautiful blue pommel stone . . .

Or perhaps I don't.

"Kill him!" The owner's voice pierces my thoughts like a spear through an already dying foe, relieving him from his own pain.

"Of course . . ." I hear myself say.

How can I kill this Ranger? He wouldn't kill me. There must be a reason . . .

No. There mustn't. I don't need a reason. The owner has commanded kill, so I must kill. I must kill for the stone.

I don't care about anything else.

I never have. Have I?

Then why is it so difficult? I feel as if I am killing myself just as I am about to to him, tearing apart my soul, my very self, and burning it—burning me—piece by piece by piece, scattering the ashes throughout the entire universe.

"Alyss," the Ranger nearly whispers, but I somehow hear him clearer than I hear myself.

A fleck of my soul finds its way home.

"I love you. I always have."

My heart stops. I can feel it.

I hear nothing.

The ashes of my soul drift back to me, surrounding me, suffocating me, trying to find their way back home. I have to let them back in.

But it hurts.

I feel myself scream in terror, in pain, but the sound of it is muffled, like I am screaming into a feather pillow.

A lovely, soft, silk feather pillow that is strangling me to death then swallowing me whole.

My soul is shoved down my throat and back inside me, piece by piece by piece. They connect, and now they throb.

All of me throbs.

I scream louder, hoping it will become audible, that someone will save me from my misery. That my knight in shining armor will come find me, rescue me from this terrifying nightmare, or worse, this terrifying reality.

And then, he does.


End file.
